Duel Absolution
by JusticeHouse
Summary: Jack and Irina’s first mission together after Sydney’s disappearance. They must infiltrate a Covenant hideout while trying to deal with their past.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** Jack Bristow, Irina Derevko, and Gerard Cuvee belong to J.J. Abrahms; I'm just taking them out for a spin. :) All songs used within this fic belong to the artists who sang them and the writers who wrote them.

**Prologue**

Irina was thrown into the dank cell; she was so exhausted that she was unable to catch herself before falling to the ground. Once she caught her breath, she searched the darkness for any other sign of life. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could see a figure slumped over in the furthest corner.

"Jack," she breathed; unsure of the extent of his injuries or even if he was conscious. She crawled over to him, ignoring her own pain; wanting, no needing, to know that he was all right. With what little light there was, Irina tried to assess the damage.

Jack's right eye was swollen shut, he had several cuts marring his face, a split lip, and his left arm appeared to have been bleeding; a haphazard tourniquet had been tied around his upper arm.

Tears blurring her vision, she fixed the tourniquet and adjusted both of them so his head lay in her lap. Breathing deeply, she gently ran her fingers through his hair, feeling for bumps as she went. There were two: one at the base of his skull and one on the right side of his head, just above his ear.

Irina placed a hand on his chest, feeling for the reassuring thump of his heart. The rhythm lulled her into a light, uneasy sleep. It was several hours later when she was startled awake by the sound of Jack's voice.

"Irina? You're alive."


	2. Chapter 1

**Day 1, Five Days Earlier**

"Dixon, I'm taking some time off."

"Now, Jack?" he was a little stunned. Jack never took any time off; it just wasn't in his nature. Even when Sydney had been killed six months ago, he'd continued to work, trying to find the answers.

"I have the days. I need to get away," Jack offered no further explanation.

"How long?"

"Possibly a month. If I'm ready earlier, I'll let you know." Jack left the office, walked through the OP's Center without looking at anybody, and made it to his car without being stopped. He had been concerned that he'd be questioned more thoroughly. He breathed a sigh of relief and sped home.

Turning of the state-of-the-art alarm system, Jack entered his split-level colonial, still cautious. He went to the den and accessed a secure server and typed in his email address, Sure enough there was a message from It was the second one in as many days and the reason why he was taking leave from the CIA.

_Distinguished Composer,_

_Pack a bag and be ready to leave tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you in the perfect honeymoon location. Details will be in your morning paper._

Music Lover 

Jack raised a hand to his head and rubbed his temples. Why the hell did Irina have to be so perverse? He had no desire to go back to Ireland; too many memories persisted there.

He was only _reluctantly_ working with Irina in the first place. It was just the thought that Sydney's return could be expedited that made him willing to share information at all. They had been doing that, and only that, for six months; each of them going on separate, clandestine missions. This would be the first time they would be working together since Panama.

Irina had sent him an email this morning explaining that a new organization, 'The Covenant,' had information relating to Sydney's disappearance as well as her relationship to Rambaldi. She needed his help to infiltrate one of their bases and steal a disc that had the information. He'd reluctantly agreed and went to inform Dixon of his need for time off, assuming Irina would get him whatever other information he needed.

Jack sighed again and went to pack his bags. He tried to will himself to sleep a few hours later, but the anticipation of garnering intel on his daughter kept him awake until after midnight and he was up at five o'clock the next morning. In his newspaper, as promised, was a message from Irina:

SUOVZEDNERTADNALLLIWXALFOTUONEVENOOSUOYEESNOTTALLSYTROFTHGILFDETINUEKAT


	3. Chapter 2

**Day 2**

Jack stared at the jumble of letters, trying to make some sense out of them. Obviously, Irina had encoded her message, but how complicated was it? He continued to stare, then rearranged the letters in reverse. Some words started to take shape but the message was still jumbled. Ripping the paper in two spots, he put the three pieces in the correct sequence:

TAKE UNITED FLIGHT FORTY SEVEN OUT OF LAX WILL LAND AT RENDEZVOUS LOCATION SEE YOU SOON

He quickly looked up when the flight was leaving and then hacked into LAX's database, adding his alias of Liam Reagan to the passenger manifest. He had three hours before he had to be at the airport and he needed to create a bogus passport without the help of the CIA or Marshall. Jack made a quick run to the drug store to get a washout hair dye. While the dye was setting, he went to work on the computer again. Satisfied that the information on his phony passport was foolproof, he rinsed his hair (now a muted red) and used a digital camera to add the final touch.

He was Liam Reagan, Irish businessman on his way home from a conference to see his wife. Jack checked the time and sent off an email to Irina with his cover story and then drove himself to the airport.

**Day 3**

Fourteen hours and seven time zones later, Jack was finally disembarking in the Dublin airport; it was 7:45 am, local time. He grabbed his luggage and scanned the area for Irina.

He felt a hand on his back and whirled about to find her standing there in a short, black pageboy wig. She was wearing a peasant blouse and skirt that resembled a kilt. He had donned jeans and a green fisherman's sweater to be comfortable on the long flight.

"Your Irish accent up to snuff?" she whispered in his ear on the pretense of kissing his cheek. At his nod, she spoke, her own words colored by a lilting Irish accent. "I'm so glad you're home my darling. I've missed you while we've been separated."

Something in her tone made Jack stare at her momentarily. "Don't take your role too far, Irina," he whispered. Aloud, he returned the sentiment, "I've missed you too, sweetheart. Shall we be going?"

The car ride was silent except for Jack's inquiry as to their destination.

"I told you in the email, Jack."

"Actually, you didn't."

"'The perfect honeymoon location?' Does this ring a bell? I didn't just mean the city."

"You mean?" She nodded. "Christ, Irina! Not _The Rose and Globe Inn_! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"No one will look for either one of us there. Besides, it's only for a night or two. Tomorrow we head for Belfast."

Jack's stony silence was the only response she got. She was well aware that her choice of accommodations would not go over well, but Jack was more upset than she had expected. Irina could only hope that his attitude was due more to his being on a plane for fourteen hours than real rancor.

Several minutes later, she glanced over at him and was surprised to find his eyes shut, he breathing deep and even. Irina had always enjoyed watching Jack sleep. All his worries seemed to drain from his face, leaving his features almost boyish in nature.

Forty-five minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of the inn. Though she was loath to do it, Irina reached over to shake him awake. Jack's hand shot out and twisted hers backwards.

He looked wild-eyed for a moment and she lay a hand on his chest as he realized where he was. Irina could feel his heart pounding, yet even as they sat there, his mask of calm settled over his face. It was almost eerie to see the change.

"Jack?"

"Are we there?"

"Yes. I checked in last night, so we can go right up to our suite." She didn't ask about his reaction, since she knew he wouldn't explain.

Once settled in the room, Irina asked, "Do you want to rest for awhile or should we discuss plans for infiltration now?"

"I'm fine. Let's figure out how to get the intel on Sydney."

The next six hours were spent going over schematics of the building, security systems, guard shift changes, and intricate computer systems. By three o'clock, Jack's head was pounding. Irina noticed his discomfort and got up to stand behind him.

"What are you doing?"

"Just relax. Let me make you feel better." She began rubbing his shoulders and the base of his neck. Jack's eyes rolled back in his head at the pleasurable sensations her hands were evoking. And it was all he could do not to groan aloud. He was fairly lost in the rhythm of her hands when he felt her breath next to his ear.

"I like you hair, by the way."

He started forward; his pleasant reverie was destroyed by reality. Irina had continued her massage but Jack couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop!"

She was startled; she thought he'd been enjoying her ministrations. "What?"

"This! Just stop!" Jack pulled away then. "I can't do this."

"Do what?"

Jack was silent as he stood with his back to her. She marched over to him and forced him to turn and face her.

"What can't you do Jack?"

He wouldn't meet her gaze as he responded, "I won't, I _can't_, let my guard down. Not again. I will not allow you to manipulate me or this situation."

"I'm not trying to manipulate anything. You're exhausted and I was trying to make you more comfortable. You used to like that." Irina would not let him see how much his accusations hurt.

"I . . ."

"Why don't you go lay down and take a nap. I'll have dinner ready when you get up."

He wanted to refuse, but the truth was he was practically asleep on his feet. He nodded and made his way to the bedroom.


	4. Chapter 3

**Day 3 continued**

Just after 5pm, as Irina was putting the finishing touches on the dinner table, she heard muffled moans coming from the bedroom. As she opened the door, the moans became coherent.

"NO! Sydney . . . please! SYDNEY!!!" Jack sat straight up and looked around, unsure of his surroundings. Once again, he had a slightly wild look about him.

"Jack?" she sat next to him and took his hand. "Jack, it's alright. Calm down." She was surreptitiously taking his pulse and was alarmed to find it at almost 140 beats per minute. "Look at me! Take a deep breath. Do you know where you are?"

Jack took several deep breaths before he answered. He needed to gather his thoughts in order to speak with her. "We're in Dublin. You and I will be infiltrating a Covenant stronghold in Belfast tomorrow night. I'm fine, Irina."

"You are _not_ fine! That's the second time _today_ that's you've woken up like that; your heart rate is though the roof!"

Jack knew full well what was going on; he was having panic attacks. He'd had them quite frequently after 'Laura' had died. To make matters worse, the CIA had thrown him into solitary thinking he had been colluding with the enemy. As the years passed, he'd learned how to control them and they'd occurred less and less. However, there was no way in hell he was sharing this information with Irina.

"Just let me be!" he pushed away from her.

"No! There's something you're not telling me and I want to know what. Jack, I can help. Please," she had moved back close to him.

"Help me?" his bark of laughter was sarcastic. "You're the reason . . ."

"The reason what?"

"Nothing," he refused to give her that damning piece of information. He couldn't afford to look weak while he worked with her. "Is dinner ready?"

She nodded and led the way to the table, knowing she couldn't press him anymore. His cooperation with her was shaky at best. So she led him to the table.

Irina had convinced the couple who owned the inn to let her use their kitchen to make Jack's favorite meal: filet mignon, homemade mashed potatoes, and biscuits. His eyes widened slightly in surprise when he saw what she'd prepared, but he said nothing. She just enjoyed watching him savor the meal.

It was a silent affair until the very end when Jack spoke softly, "Thank you. I haven't had a meal like that in a long time." He made a move to help clean up.

"I'll do it. I made the mess," she protested.

"You cook, I clear. Remember?"

Irina was surprised that he would make any references to their domestic life but was grateful that he was making an effort. "Let me help this time?"

Together they took the dishes downstairs and proceeded to clean them, Irina washing, Jack drying. They were almost finished when Mrs. O'Shaunassy came bustling in.

"Sure and if that isn't the sweetest thing I've seen in a while! Thirty years together and you're still helpin' wit' the dishes. Now that's what I call true love!"

"I told Mrs. O'Shaunassy about our anniversary and that we're on our second honeymoon, Liam," Irina tried to explain.

But their easy companionship fell away as anger quickly suffused his face and was just as quickly replaced with a mask of indifference. Mrs. O'Shaunassy saw none of this and continued speaking.

"My Malachy has to be poke and prodded into helping wit' any chores. But he doe make up for it wit' the little poems and notes he leaves me. And he's no slouch in the sack!" She nudged Irina, "I daresay you've got nothin' to complain about either!"

Out of the corner of her eye Irina saw the tips of Jack's ears turn bright red. Handing him the last dish she said, "We really must thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. O'Shaunassy. But we should be getting back to our suite; I want to celebrate with my man."

If it was possible, his ears turned a shade darker as Irina slipped an arm around his waist and a hand into the back pocket of his jeans. Jack allowed her to keep them in that position until they were back in their suite with the door closed safely behind them.

"God damn it, Irina! What in the hell were you thinking?" he yelled as soon as the door shut.

The grin she wore faded from her lips when she heard them venom in his voice. "I'm sorry, Jack," she said, softly, "I was only teasing."

"Well, don't." He snatched his bag from where it lay outside them bedroom door. He tossed it on the bed and rummaged around in it. Finding what he wanted, Jack slammed into the enormous bathroom.

As he got under the hot spray, he felt some of the day's tension ebb away. He realized that at least part of his sour mood was due to his lack of sleep on the flight over. He also had serious doubts about working with Irina, even if it meant finding Sydney.

"_No_," he thought, "_that isn't true. I will do _anything_ to find her. If that means working with and international terrorist, so be it._"

His thoughts turned to his daughter then. He closed his eyes and pictured her smiling face. The last time he'd seen Sydney, she'd kissed his cheek, something she hadn't done since she was twelve.

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked back the tears that had threatened to form. He shut off the water, grabbing a towel as he stepped out of the stall.

He dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist, fully intending on shaving before he dressed for bed. Unbidden, an image of Sydney as a little girl flashed before his eyes, then her high school graduation, then the night he told her Laura had died, then the night they had dinner together, few weeks before she disappeared.

Jack sat down heavily on the toilet seat, his large frame wracked with silent sobs, tears streaming down his face. He tried to compose himself, when, after several minutes, he heard Irina knocking on the door.

"I'll be out in a minute!" He hastily dried his eyes and pulled on boxers and sweatpants.

"Jack, are you are all right?" Irina called. "You've been in there quite a while."

"I, uh, just need to shave."

"Jack, you sound strange. I'm coming in, so you'd better be decent!" She walked in to find him shirtless, wet hair tousled boyishly, and red-eyed. She touched his bare back and opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't," he pulled away.

"What?"

"Just don't!"

"I don't understand!" Irina followed him into the bedroom. When he stopped in front of the bed, she again lay a hand on his shoulder. "You've been crying. Let me hold you, help take away some of the pain."

"Don't touch _me_! I don't want your comfort. I don't deserve it." The words fell off his tongue, bitingly, as he looked anywhere but at her.

Irina didn't remove her hand. On the contrary, she wrapped both hands securely around his chest and lay the side of her head on his back. She wasn't sure what had precipitated his outburst, but she wasn't going to leave him alone.

"Let go of me, Irina. I don't want you to do this. Please . . ."

She felt rather than heard the hitch in his breath. She rubbed a hand over his chest as she said, "It's alright, I know you miss her. I do, too. Can't we take comfort in each other? Just for one night?" She eased him down on as she finished speaking, and spooned behind him.

Jack didn't speak, but allowed himself to be guided by his wife. Irina ran her fingers through the still damp curls at the base of his neck, something she used to do when they were first married. It always seemed to help him relax; tonight was no different. It wasn't long before Jack's breathing had evened out. Irina was content to listen to his heart beating until she, too, was deep asleep.


	5. Chapter 4

**Day 4**

They woke late the next morning. Neither spoke as they readied themselves for the drive ahead of them. They were clean up, locked up, and on the road by just before noon.

It was a four-hour drive to one of Jack's storage facilities just outside of Belfast in Northern Ireland. There they would pick up the 'supplies' they would need. Once it was dark, they'd drive another hour to a location that was within one mile of the compound. From there, they would be on foot.

An hour and a half of complete silence was grating on Irina's nerves.

"Don't you think we should talk?"

"No."

"Not at all?"

"No."

"About anything?"

"No."

"Then I'm turning on the radio."

"Fine."

She fiddled with the knobs, trying to find a station that was actually playing music. At last she found one that was playing oldies. They caught the tail end of _Carry on My Wayward Son_ before _Daydream Believer_ came on. She saw Jack roll his eyes but she left the station where it was.

The car was filled with sound of the past as they drove past the green, Irish countryside. When _American Pie_ started, he began tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the beat. Irina's foot joined in the tattoo. It wasn't long before the two of them were singing along:

_Bye, bye Miss American Pie  
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry  
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye  
Singing this'll be the day that I die  
This'll be the day that I die_

At the end of the song they looked at each other, and Jack quirked a smile before turning his attention back to the road. _Time in a Bottle_ was next, and Irina simply listened as Jack's soothing tenor voice joined the melody.

_If I could save time in a bottle  
The first thing that I'd like to do  
Is to save every day  
Till eternity passes away  
Just to spend them with you_

_If I could make days last forever  
If words could make wishes come true  
I'd save every day like a treasure and then,  
Again, I would spend them with you_

_But there never seems to be enough time  
To do the things you want to do  
Once you find them  
I've looked around enough to know  
That you're the one I want to go  
Through time with_

_If I had a box just for wishes  
And dreams that had never come true  
The box would be empty  
Except for the memory  
Of how they were answered by you_

_But there never seems to be enough time  
To do the things you want to do  
Once you find them  
I've looked around enough to know  
That you're the one I want to go  
Through time with_

She couldn't meet his eyes, knowing that she would have given anything to keep their life the way it had been during those ten blissful. He heart dropped even further when the next song came on.

The Sugar Shoppe's _Baby, Baby_ had been the first song they'd danced to. Jack had kissed her when he'd dropped her off at her apartment that night and the song had been playing on her roommate's radio. From then on, it had been 'their' song.

His hand darted over to turn the radio off. She was quicker and intercepted him before he could complete the move.

"I haven't heard this song in years," she said.

"I don't want to listen to it while sitting next to you. Turn it off."

"Jack . . ."

"Now!"

Taken aback by the vehemence in his tone, Irina waited several miles before speaking again. "It was just a song, Jack."

"No it wasn't, and you know it."

"So you always turn the radio off when you hear it?" she asked, sarcastically.

His silence was damning and he knew it. But still, he refused to give her an answer.

"You do, don't you! Is it really so painful to think about our life together that you can't listen to a song?"

"I don't want to think about our life because it was all a lie. There is nothing, nothing, save Sydney, good that came out of that scam of a marriage. If I choose to distance myself from that time, it is out of self-preservation."

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I . . ."

"You never meant to hurt me? What the hell did you think would happen when you left?"

"Which time?"

"We're not having this conversation now."

"Then when?"

Jack jerked the steering wheel to avoid the sheep that had wandered in front of the car. They came to a screeching halt on the side of the road. Irina looked over to see Jack slumped over the wheel. Frantically, she unbuckled her own seat belt, then his.

"Jack, Jack!" she shook him.

"Stop it. I'm fine." He sat up, holding a hand to his forehead.

"You're not fine. You're bleeding." She grabbed the first aid kit and started to patch him up. She tried not to be alarmed at the amount of blood she saw, reminding herself that it was a head wound.

"Just tape it on," he said, referring to the gauze. "We need to get going."

"Without you at the wheel, I think."

That he didn't argue led her to believe that he was in more pain than he let on. For the last half of the drive, Jack sat in silence, gazing out over the land. Irina kept shooting glances at him to make sure he didn't fall asleep. It was an enormous relief to them both when they arrived at his weapons compound.


	6. Chapter 5

**Day 4 continued**

Dusk was two hours away as they gathered the gear they needed: Two hand guns, a semi-automatic, smoke bombs, and night vision goggles among various other tools, for each of them. They piled everything into the car and began the wait for dark.

Jack sat as far away from Irina as he could, brooding. He heard her walk over, but refused to acknowledge her.

"How's you're head?"

"It hurts," he replied, bluntly.

"Can I do something?"

"Yeah. Leave me alone."

"No," Irina was adamant. "We need to be in top form tonight. You're going to talk to me whether you want to or not." At his silence, she continued, "Whatever was going on at the inn . . . when you woke up . . . you weren't acting normally. If you know what it was, then tell me!"

"You want to know? You really want to know?" Jack stood, using his height to try to intimidate her.

It didn't work. "Yes, I do."

The genuine concern in her voice had him perplexed. "Why are you doing this? Why do you even care?"

"I do care. I've always cared, Jack. You don't have to believe me. Just trust me enough right now to let me in."

He hesitated, but answered. "They were panic attacks. After I was put into solitary, I began having panic attacks. When I was first released, I would have them almost every night. I eventually learned how to control them, but it took a long time."

"That's what you meant when you said I was the reason," Irina deduced.

Jack nodded.

"Why now?"

"Why am I having attacks? You. Plain and simple. Working with you," he was brutally honest.

"That's a shitty thing to say, Jack!"

"You wanted to know, Irina. I'm not going to sugar coat the hell I went through the last twenty years. While you were living the high life as an international terrorist, I was picking up the pieces of my life."

"I didn't have a choice in leaving! The KGB would have killed you and Sydney if I hadn't gone. And my family in Russia was being threatened as well."

"Damn it, why didn't you tell me? I would have found a way to protect you, your family!"

"Would you really? Would you have helped a Russian spy who had endangered your country?"

"Did you want to stay with me and Sydney?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question."

"Yes! I loved, love, both of you. I never wanted to leave. I hadn't given my handler anything worthwhile in over a year. I wanted them to think that my pool of information had dried up; maybe they would leave me alone to live my life with you and Sydney."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to hate me," Irina said softly, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Well, you did a real bang up job there, didn't you?"

They sat, nursing their hurts until Irina spoke, "I told Sydney once that my love you her and for you wasn't a contrivance . . ."

"She told me."

"Jack look at me!" She lay a hand on his cheek and forced him to do just that. "No matter what you think, my love for you was the only thing that got me through three years at the prison in Kashmir."

Jack tried to summon his anger back, instead he found himself asking, "Why were you in prison so long?"

"I was luck it wasn't longer. My superiors feared, with good reason, I had fallen in love with you, with Sydney, with my new life. They wanted to make sure I hadn't blown my cover, that I was still loyal to Mother Russia. They were very thorough in their investigations."

"What did they do to you?" Jack wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

"What didn't they do? They used any means available. Cuveé was particularly vicious; you saw how he was when we were there last year. He felt my body belonged to him and used it accordingly. I finally convinced my superiors of my loyalty and Cuveé that I enjoyed his . . . attentions."

"I'm sorry," and he truly was. No matter his feelings toward her, no woman should have to endure that. "I had no idea."

"No, you didn't."

"Why didn't you come back?"

"At first, I was watched too closely. And I don't think you would have been receptive to a dead KGB agent coming back into your life. Eventually, the KGB stopped watching but I discovered information surrounding the Rambaldi mythology that put Sydney at risk. I felt my duties as her mother could be better served by keeping tabs on the artifacts and those who chose to pursue them. That's why I created my own syndicate."

Jack glanced down at his watch; it was already half-past six. They needed to be on their way to the Covenant facility.

"We're going to have to finish this conversation at another time. We need to get a move on."

That he wanted to continue speaking at all bode well for the future of their relationship, Irina thought.

Jack and Irina snuck around the perimeter of the compound, taking out guards and security systems at will. They managed to reach the mainframe without a major incident and Jack began to search the database for the files they needed, while Irina kept watch.

He found the information, downloaded it to a disc, then took an extra thirty seconds to encrypt it and send it to the secure server as a precaution. As he finished, all hell broke loose.

Gunfire echoed around them; Jack shoved Irina to the floor and followed quickly after. Eventually, the cacophony died down. Through the smoke, they saw a man enter the room.

"Irina. So nice to see you again."

"Gerard?"

"Of course, my dear. Now," Gerard Cuveé spoke to his guards, "take the man, interrogate him. The woman is with me."

"You set me up!" Jack hissed at Irina.

"Jack, no! Remember what I told you. I would not betray you or Sydney again! Jack!"

There was something in her eyes that convinced him, especially when the guards grabbed him; she sounded almost desperate. Two of the guards held him as a third began lobbing body shots. It wasn't long before he was sagging to the ground, yet the beating didn't stop. Irina ran to cover him, absorbing as many of the blows as she could.

"Don't," he gasped, "I believe you. One of us needs to stay on his good side."

"You stupid bitch!" roared Cuveé. "You would protect this American scum?!"

"He is my husband!" she was defiant, "I won't let you hurt him again!"

"Take them both to be interrogated. But leave the whore for me; I will deal with this traitorous bitch myself."

Jack saw a fleeting moment of panic cross Irina's face and felt a knot form in his stomach as they were pulled apart.


	7. Chapter 6

**Day 5**

_Irina was thrown into the dank cell; she was so exhausted that she was unable to catch herself before falling to the ground. Once she caught her breath, she searched the darkness for any other sign of life. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could see a figure slumped over in the furthest corner._

"_Jack," she breathed; unsure of the extent of his injuries or even if he was conscious. She crawled over to him, ignoring her own pain; wanting, no needing, to know that he was all right. With what little light there was, Irina tried to assess the damage._

_Jack's right eye was swollen shut, he had several cuts marring his face, a split lip, and his left arm appeared to have been bleeding; a haphazard tourniquet had been tied around his upper arm._

_Tears blurring her vision, she fixed the tourniquet and adjusted both of them so his head lay in her lap. Breathing deeply, she gently ran her fingers through his hair, feeling for bumps as she went. There were two: one at the base of his skull and one on the right side of his head, just above his ear._

_Irina placed a hand on his chest, feeling for the reassuring thump of his heart. The rhythm lulled her into a light, uneasy sleep. It was several hours later when she was startled awake by the sound of Jack's voice._

"_Irina? You're alive."_

"And you're awake," she responded, almost glibly because she didn't want to give into the tears of relief. If she did, she would completely break down.

"Are you alright?" Jack asked as he sat up. Irina looked about as bad as he felt.

"I'm fine," she said, brushed off her own injuries. "It's you I'm worried about. What did they do to you?"

"Just use your imagination. Then again," he added, "you don't need to, do you? Do you know how long we've been here?"

"Just a day, I think. Jack, we can't stay here. Cuveé will kill us."

"If you have a plan to get us out of here without further bodily harm, I'm all ears."

"The key is the guards. They're not all that intelligent. Gerard likes to feel superior, and those who serve him only want his approval. I'm sure we can come up with a way to get past them."

They discussed their options and decided that Irina would tell the guard she was willing to give Cuveé intel on Rambaldi in exchange for medical attention for Jack. Once the guards entered the cell, Irina and Jack would feign complacency before springing an attack.

"Are you up for this?" Irina asked.

"Do I really have a choice?" At her expression he amended, "I'll be fine. Let's roll."

The most amazing thing was that their plan actually worked. The two goons working for Cuveé didn't know what hit them. Jack and Irina began to work themselves out of the building, trying to remember all the twists and turns from the schematics.

They had almost made it when Gerard Cuveé appeared before them. Irina blanched, something Jack had never seen her do.

"You did not think it would be so easy, did you?"

Something inside Jack snapped at the snide tone and the derision written on Cuveé's countenance. He launched himself at the Russian, fists flying, heedless of his own injuries. Jack toppled the man after only a few hits; the back of Cuveé's head smacked the cement floor with a sickening crack. Yet, Jack continued his vicious assault.

"Bastard! Lay a hand on my wife! Never again!"

Irina had heard that Jack could be cunning and even cruel when dealing with suspects, but this went beyond the pale. She had never seen him so violent.

"Jack," she attempted to pull him off. "Jack! He's not getting up! We need to get out of here!"

Her voice finally penetrated to fog of rage that had enshrouded him. They managed to make it to the car without further incident. In the dim glow coming from car light, Irina saw that Jack had re-opened the wound in his arm.

"Let me fix that," she said, grabbing the tourniquet.

"Don't fuss, Irina. Just get us out of here."

She finished wrapping his arm before getting behind the wheel. "I'm taking us straight to Dublin. We can go back to the inn . . ."

"In our condition? Don't you think Mrs. O'Shaunassy's going to be a little concerned?"

"She won't say anything; I've stayed with her before. Besides we can cover most of the injuries, mine with cover-up, and yours with clean clothes. We'll tell her we went hiking and had an accident."

Jack looked skeptical, but didn't protest. Dawn was fast approaching and they needed to get away before anyone realized they were gone.


	8. Chapter 7

**Day 6**

They pulled into The Rose and Globe's parking lot just after 10am. Irina rummaged through the glove compartment for some concealer then applied it to the cuts and bruises on her face. She popped the trunk and found a sweatshirt for Jack to slip on over his ripped and bloodied fatigues.

They tried to avoid Mrs. O'Shaunassy as the entered the inn. But sure enough, she accosted them as they stepped through the door.

"I've been worried about the two of you!" She took in their appearance, "Dear Lord! What in the name of Heaven happened to you?"

"We went hiking, and it went a little wrong," Irina lied easily. "We've been at the hospital. Liam needed some medcial attention."

"You both look like you could use a good meal. Can I get you somethin'?"

"Actually," Irina looked at Jack; "I think we're both pretty exhausted. We'll just be heading up to our room to rest. We should be down for dinner, though."

"Well, alright then."

Once in their suite, Jack headed to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

"Wait, Jack. You've got to let me bandage you up."

"Leave me alone, I'm fine."

"You just keep telling yourself that and maybe by sheer force of will you can make it the truth," she said as she tugged on the hem of his sweatshirt.

He didn't protest any further as she stripped him down to his boxers. She gasped as she took in the damaged inflicted upon him. His ribs were mottled blue, purple, and black; the bruise wrapped around his right side to his kidney and extended upward to the lung. There were abrasions on both shoulders and another large bruise on his chest, just above his heart.

"God, Jack. What the hell did they do to you? And why didn't you tell me?"

"What difference would it have made?"

"What difference? I wouldn't have let you take on those guards, let alone Cuveé!"

"And we would still be back in that cell. Besides there's not a whole hell of a lot you could have done about it. It's all just bruises, nothing internal that I can tell. Now, would you mind stitching me up?"

"Only if you agree to tell me what they did to you. Your injuries may be more severe than you think!"

"Fine, but after you close up the cut on my arm."

Irina dug through her suitcase, looking for the special first aid kit she'd packed. This one contained painkillers, syringes, and other various medical instruments, as well as the things one might normally expect. She pulled out nylon thread and a needle, then proceeded to wash, stitch, and bandage the gash on his forearm.

Throughout all of this, Jack never moved, never made a sound. Irina thought maybe he was going into shock now that they were out of danger. But he wasn't shivering and appeared alert.

As she finished bandaging his arm, she felt his forehead and asked, "Do you know what day it is?"

"What? Irina, honestly. I'm not in shock; I'm just tired and sore. I just want to get clean and get a good night's sleep," Jack was fairly annoyed.

"Answer the question," she folded her arms.

"For Christ's sake! It's Monday, January twelfth. We're in Dublin, Ireland at the same inn where we had our honeymoon. Does that sound lucid enough?"

"Yes," she nodded. "And you sound lucid enough to tell me what Cuveé and his men did to you."

"They wanted to know what information we were after and if we had found it. They wanted me to betray you. I wouldn't tell them what they wanted to hear.

"They used chains and brass knuckles. They kept up the beating until I passed out. The next thing I remember is waking up with my head in your lap."

"Dear God! I take it back, I'm glad you were able to take out Cuveé," she took a deep, shaky breath. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Do you want any pain meds?"

"No pills. I'm not sure I want to know where you got them. I would actually like to get clean. I'm just going to sit and soak for awhile."

"Just wrap that arm first."

Jack grabbed his sweatpants and a clean pair of boxers and retreated to the bathroom. Once the steaming water filled the tub, he lowered himself in and let the heat penetrate his sore and abused body. Closing his eyes, he let himself relax for the first time in days.

Irina waited about 15 minutes, listening anxiously for any signs of distress coming from the bathroom, before she decided to change into something more comfortable. She was down to her bra and panties, inspecting her own cuts and bruises, when Jack emerged unexpectedly from his bath.

"What did that bastard do to you?" he seethed.

"It's nothing. Not compared with . . ."

Jack took two large strides and caught her before she hit the floor. Carefully, making sure not to injure himself or her any further, he lifted her up on to the bed. He ran his hands over her body lightly, trying to discern anything that would cause Irina to pass out. There were minor cuts and bruises peppering her body, a small knot on top of her head, and a shallow slash across her right thigh.

Glancing up from the wound in her leg, Jack caught a glimpse of crimson staining the crotch of her underwear.

"If you wanted to get me into bed, all you had to do was ask." Irina had regained consciousness.

"Did he rape you?"

The question caught her off-guard. "What?"

"Did . . . he . . . rape you?"

"I . . . Jack . . ."

"Don't lie to me."

"It's nothing he hasn't done before. There was no reason to tell you," she added at the look he gave her. "You wouldn't have cared."

"You can't honestly believe that?"

"What would you have done?"

"Made sure he suffered even more. And made sure he was dead!"

"Jack, I'm fine. I learned to block it out a long time ago. I . . . I just picture your face . . . and pretend we still have a real marriage. I remember how your sweet, brown eyes looked the first time we made love, or when you held Sydney the night she was born . . . and . . . everything is alright."

Jack had moved to the edge of the bed and was sitting with his back to her. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I should have protected you."

"I wasn't about to let those men beat you to death, if that's what you're thinking. For once, I needed to make a sacrifice for you. I know there's not much I can do to replace the years I took from you. But I've wanted to make it up to you, what I had to do."

"Not like that you didn't," he paused, "Are there any other injuries I should know about? Like ones that would cause you to pass out?"

"No. I think the adreleline finally just wore off. I'm going to use the shower if you don't mind. I need to get that man's foul stench off of me."

Jack nodded his acquiescence. He watched as she gathered clean clothes, along with a scented candle and bubble bath. At the last two items, he raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He waited a moment, then followed her into the bathroom.

"What are you doing?"

"It's my turn to take care of you."

Jack ran the bath water, added the bubble bath, and lit the candle. Then he turned his attention to Irina, gently removing her bra and underwear. Her nipples puckered as he helped her into the tub. His eyes drifted downward.

"I'm not going to apologize. I can't help the way you affect me, Jack. I still find you incredibly sexy."

He said nothing, but soaped up the washcloth and began rubbing it across her back. Irina closed her eyes and allowed Jack to do as he pleased. She was quite enjoying his ministrations until his hand was urging her thighs apart.

"Jack, no! You don't . . ." she fumbled as her eyes flew open.

"Yes, I do. Just . . . close you're eyes again."

She did as he requested and felt his soft touch gently wipe away the dried blood and semen. She felt tears roll down her cheeks but neither of them acknowledged it.

Jack realized that Irina had rarely been gifted with human contact that was anything but harsh and he found himself glad to provide some comfort. He poured water over her head, then worked some shampoo into her hair, massaging her scalp as we went. He rinsed her hair but continued to massage her neck and shoulders.

The water was cooling, so Jack helped Irina out of the tub and wrapped her in a large terrycloth towel. He made sure every drop of moisture was gone from her body before dropping the towel and staring at her.

"What?" Irina was a little embarrassed at how intently he was looking at her.

"You are so beautiful."

"Jack?" She was still confused; she thought she saw something flicker (was it desire?) in his eyes. She took a chance and leaned in to him; her lips touching his, her breasts brushing his chest.

Irina was the aggressor, running her hands down his back and opening her mouth to seek entrance to his. She could feel him holding back despite the arousal pressing against her leg.

She pulled back and asked, "What is it?"

"I . . . we . . . I can't do this."

"Why not?"

"We have to finish our talk."


	9. Chapter 8

**Day 6 continued**

Irina dressed and joined Jack in the living room, on the couch. She wasn't sure where their conversation would lead, but knew that Jack needed the closure it would bring.

"If you were so concerned with our daughter's well-being, why didn't you try to get in contact with me sooner?" Jack asked, calmly.

"By the time the KGB stopped watching me, it had been ten years since they'd extracted me. You wouldn't have listened."

He didn't argue, but asked another question, "What happened in Panama? Why didn't you stick to the plan?"

"I honestly didn't know what to do or think when Sark showed up instead of Sloane. I tried to improvise the best I could. I didn't know what Sloane had planned with the limousine. Once I met with him, I did the only thing I could: I went along with his plans in order to protect Sydney. I needed to know what, if any, danger he represented," Irina paused. "After we . . . made love that night, I had hope for us. I thought you did, too. Why didn't you believe in me? Trust me?"

"You made love to me countless time when we were married. There was no way I could be completely sure that you wouldn't betray me again. I had to cover my bases, and in this case I was technically correct."

"Then you didn't feel anything at all?"

"I hope for the best, but expected the worst."

Irina knew that Jack tended to avoid answering questions that made him vulnerable by giving a non-answer. The fact that he did it now made her sure that Panama meant more to him than he was willing to admit. But she took pity on him and changed the direction of the conversation.

"Can I ask you something, now?"

Jack was wary but nodded his assent anyway.

"What happened to the man I married?"

"Excuse me?"

"In the year and a half that I've been back, I haven't heard you laugh one. And I've barely seen you smile. You weren't like this when we were married."

"Being thrown in solitary for six months will change a man."

"What did they do to you?"

For the first time, Jack spoke about what the CIA had done to him. "For most of the six months, I was kept completely isolated. The only time I was allowed any contact was when I was being interrogated. They kept Sydney away from me the entire time; she was told I was away on business.

"They kept me in a room without any windows, I didn't see sunlight until I was released. It made it harder to keep track of the days and I never knew when someone would barge into the cell to ask the same questions over and over.

"After I was released, I didn't have much to smile about. So I tried to protect Sydney the only way I could think of. I shut her out; I didn't want her to feel the kind of pain she felt when 'Laura' died. If I pushed her away, then if anything happened to me, it would be quite as bad."

"But what about you, Jack?"

"You should know by now that everything I do is in service of protecting Sydney. It didn't matter the cost to me. But I always did what I could for her; I took her out to dinner, to the mall, and I was always there on important occasions, even if she didn't know it."

"What about SAB47?"

Jack's eyes clouded over with pain. He didn't question how Irina knew about the project, just assumed that Sloane had told her. "I never want Sydney to find out what I did! Project Christmas the over-arching operation. SAB47 was the detailed reports I gave the CIA. They contained information pertaining to how she could be trained for them.

"All operatives were required to open a file on their children. Some agents were urged to conduct experiments or train their children from birth. I originally refused. But after you were . . . gone . . . I thought, especially when I learned what you were, that Sydney should have specialized training to keep her from falling victim to what you did to me. The CIA chose the schools and programs and I followed, blindly until Sydney was 13."

"What happened when she was 13?"

"I quit drinking. She came home from school and found me drunk in my study. She gave me such a look of disgust . . .

"I decided to take control at that point. I hated how she looked at me, and I hated myself more for letting it happen. My superiors weren't happy when I took her out of their hands, but I finally realized that they were bent on turning her into a machine, someone who followed orders without questioning them. I was not about to let that happen. But instead, I lost my daughter to Arvin Sloane."

Neither of them spoke, but Irina moved from her end of the couch to sit next to him. She tugged his hand into hers.

"A grasshopper walks into a bar. The bartender looks at him and says, 'Hey we got a drink named after you!' The grasshopper says, 'You have a drink named Phil?'"

Jack smiled and let out a small chuckle. "What was that?"

"Sydney told me Mr. Vaughn told her that joke while they waited for the outcome of my hearing."

"It's probably the worst joke I've heard. But this is Vaughn we're talking about."

"But it got you to laugh," she pointed out.

"Yeah, it did." Then something occurred to him, "Oh, Jesus! The intel! I uploaded it to our server. We need to examine it!"

Once the intel was retrieved, Irina and Jack could see that there was no mention of Sydney. In fact there were only five names listed in the entire file: Deanna Carson, Andrew Edwards, Mathew Garson, Julia Thorne, and Blair Wilkins. Most of the file contained information relating to a brainwashing technique that the Covenant had devised called Total Personality Transfer. The organization had been testing it on the people whose names were mentioned.

"It's a dead end," Irina sighed.

"Not necessarily," Jack was uncharacteristically optimistic. "There are three female names here. They could mean something. We should do some checking into them; you know they could be aliases." He turned to face her. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For giving me hope." Jack leaned in and kissed her, letting his tongue lightly trace her lips.

When she responded, he let his hands roam over her body. He moved to lift up her shirt but she stopped him.

"Jack, wait a minute. I need to say something . . ."

"No, you don't."

"Just . . . humor me, ok? I need to say this, but I am not expecting anything from you." She took a deep breath, "I love you."

Jack didn't move. He didn't speak. He didn't breathe. Irina thought she'd ruined the moment and decided to leave the room. She was just inside the bedroom when she heard Jack say, lowly, "I love you, too."

Tears sprang to her eyes as she turned back to face him. He was standing now, looking at her expectantly. She closed the distance between them, carefully putting her arms around his waist.

Jack kissed the top of her head. "You know, as much as I would like to, taking you into that bedroom and making love to you is not really feasible in our conditions."

"I know. But that doesn't mean we can't engage in some heavy petting." She gripped him through his cotton sweatpants and led him to the bedroom.


	10. Chapter 9

**Day 10**

They stayed at the inn for several more days, recuperating. They decided that once they departed Ireland, they shouldn't make contact for at least six weeks. In the interim, they both would be investigating the names in the file as well the brainwashing technique the Covenant was using.

Friday morning they decided they would have to leave the next day. Jack thought they should take the day to visit some local shops and museums. He was also planning to take Irina to dinner that night as a surprise.

When they walked past a clothing shop on the way back to the inn, Jack stopped. "Let's go in," he suggested.

"What for?"

"We need some new clothes."

"What for?" she repeated, exasperated.

"We are going to Aingel & Diabhal." It was one of the places they had truly enjoyed on their honeymoon. Delicious food and great dancing.

"Really, Jack?"

"Really," he smiled, indulgently. "I want you to buy something extravagant. The sky's the limit."

Once in the shop, they went their separate ways. Jack found himself a nice Gucci suit within 20 minutes and waited for Irina in the chairs at the front of the store. Finally, she emerged from the racks with her purchase carefully concealed.

"What did you get?"

"A dress."

"Uh, huh. Could I see it?"

"No. Not until we leave for dinner. Now pay up, Mr. Bristow."

Heaving a sigh, Jack paid for their garments and they continued back to the inn to dress for dinner.

Irina commandeered the bathroom as she readied herself. Jack waited for a while before he began getting dressed himself, knowing it would take her forever before she was satisfied with her appearance.

Just as he was about to pound on the door, Irina exited. She looked stunning in an emerald green, strapless silk dress that stopped halfway down her calf. The skirt had a slit up the left side. Jack let his gaze linger tantalizingly.

She returned the favor, taking in his all black suit and shirt. A silver tie that matched the silver in his hair offset the darkness. That man did things for black that made her blush.

Jack offered her his arm, gallantly, "Shall we?"

Irina took it, nodding, and they were off to the restaurant.

They spend the evening as any normal couple would. They made sure to steer clear of topics that would incriminate or upset, instead discussing more mundane ones like books, movies, or music. And when George Strait's Lead On started playing, Jack held out his hand and asked Irina to dance.

He held her close and as she lay her head on his heart she could feel the vibrations as he sang quietly along. Irina felt as though he were singing the words straight from his soul.

_She said I don't recall_

_Seeing you around_

_You must be new to this town_

_Said I'm just passing through but_

_Girl from the looks of you I_

_Could see me settlin' down_

_Then she smiled and said the invitation's open_

_'Cause you look like just what I've been waiting on_

_So I said why don't we take_

_This matter somewhere else_

_And get to know this feeling that's so strong_

_Lead on_

_She said I had a love once_

_But he just up and left me_

_I said I be he broke your heart_

_I had a love once too but_

_I acted like a fool oh_

_What I'd give to be back in her arms_

_Then she smiled and said the invitation's open_

_'Cause you look like just what I've been waiting on_

_So I said why don't we take_

_This matter somewhere else_

_And get to know this feeling that's so strong_

_Lead on_

_She said I don't recall_

_Seeing you around_

_You must be new to this town_

When the dance was finished, Jack paid the bill and they left holding hands.

Back in their room, Jack and Irina sat on the couch awkwardly. Neither knew what to say.

"I'm going to miss you," she said at last.

"I'll miss you, too."

Irina turned and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Hungrily, he opened his mouth and began a duel with her tongue. She pulled his tie off and began unbuttoning his shirt as he unzipped the back of her dress.

"Bedroom," she instructed.

Jack lifted her with ease and carried her to the bed. He set her down, then climbed up behind her, planting kisses on the bare expanse of her back and neck. All the while, he was tugging the front of the dress down. Her nipples puckered as the cool air hit them and she gasped as his warm fingers played with the tips. He urged her to stand up so he could slip the dress the rest of the way off.

Kneeling in front of her, Jack placed an open-mouthed kiss on her abdomen. He started peeling her stockings down, kissing the skin that was revealed as we went. By the time he reached her feet, Irina was a quivering mass of arousal.

"You're wearing too many clothes," she managed to get out.

"That can be rectified," he asserted. He lay her down, then proceeded to strip down to his boxers. He lay next to her, kissing her as his hands parted her thighs. He stroked two fingers in and out while his thumb worked at her clit. It wasn't long before she climaxed, shouting his name.

"That was amazing," she said breathlessly.

"Indeed."

"My turn," Irina had a wicked gleam in her eye.

She cupped him through his shorts, marveling at his restraint. She helped him shimmy out of the boxers then licked a path down to his erection.

"Irina, you don't have to," Jack groaned as she kissed the tip.

"But I want to. Just lay still and let me do all the work."

He attempted to follow her directions, but try as he might; it wasn't long before he was thrusting into her mouth. She managed to take him all the way in, alternately licking and sucking.

"Oh, God, Irina! I'm . . . gonna . . . come!"

She didn't stop, let him explode in her mouth. Soon she was lying next to him again; both sated for the moment.

When he regain his breath, Jack said, "You didn't have to, especially . . . you know. I tried to warn you."

"I told you I wanted to. I love the taste of you. Besides, it's been a long time since anyone has made me feel this good," she paused, "So, old man. You ready for round two?" Irina reached down and gripped him, not surprised to find him hard again.

"Who you calling old? As I recall, you're only two years younger. And I believe my lifestyle is slightly less stressful than yours."

Irina straddled him, helping him to find her entrance, and the argument was over. As he slid home, Jack groaned. He looked up to see tears running down her face.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No . . ."

"Then what?"

"It's just that it hasn't been like this for me since . . . you. And I never though I'd be with you again. I just want to remember this feeling for the rest of my life." She began to move in a leisurely pace, encouraging him along.

They moved together slowly, wanting to savor each other's bodies. Eventually, Irina sped up, and Jack flipped her over. He plunged in and out; he would pull almost all the way out before pushing all the way back in. It wasn't long before Irina cried out in ecstasy, her cries only increasing Jack's desire. A few more thrusts and he shouted her name as she came for a final time.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," he sighed.

"I don't think they had anything to do with it, sweetheart."

Jack sighed again. He pulled the covers over both of them. "We need to get some sleep."

"Jack . . . don't go away on me."

"I'm not. But we have to leave early tomorrow. I want to spend the rest of the night with my arms wrapped around you."

"It won't be forever, you know."

"I do."

"Jack," she said after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"Love you, too."


End file.
